


i had those wild charms for you

by queenofglass



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 01:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofglass/pseuds/queenofglass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crones in town hissed when she marched past them this morning, arms full of red cloth. They always say red is the Devil’s color. <em>It attracts evil, it attracts beasts, it attracts blood</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i had those wild charms for you

The Westerlands were a far-flung and lonely place.

Their village sat between two forbidding mountains, and was near impossible to reach. Cartographers often missed it when creating maps, so the town was something of a mystery to the lands past the moor. Alone and forgotten by the rest of the realm, the village without a name formed tight bonds of kinship.

Other houses scattered the region beyond the town, but most were home to reculses and criminals. Their presence was barely tolerated.

Jeyne sat by the fire, bent over her embroidery. She was the last Westerling for miles, and bore the name of the first kings of the moor. Though the honor had faded away like old ink, a shred of pride remained.

The crones in town hissed when she marched past them this morning, arms full of red cloth. They always say red is the Devil’s color. _It attracts evil, it attracts beasts, it attracts blood_.

In the vast reaches of the forest, the villagers’ stories meant very little to Jeyne. They didn’t help her chop wood, skin animals, or mind her garden. They were meant to scare children, and Jeyne had no one to be frightened of.

One evening, she was wading in creek near her home and heard a howl. Wolves were a threat to the forest residents; she had to be careful. Strangely, the howl was quite unlike the others. It was low and hollow, a lone beast without a pack. Jeyne picked up her axe and went to investigate.

What she found was a man. His mouth and chin were coated with dried blood, while the wounds and bite marks on his chest were still fresh.

Something about him made her wary. It felt too _easy_. There had been a wolf nearby, and yet she found him. Jeyne had always been skeptical of folk tales, but now, she heard doubt whispering in her ear.

“Please,” the man gasped. His hair was dark with sweat, his breathing shallow. She knew if she left him, he’d die; she knew if she brought him with her, she’d die.

“I’m armed,” she told him coldly. “I could kill you here and now.”

“Then do it,” the man snapped.

She didn’t.

The two hobbled back to her cabin, mindful of the moonrise. The man asked for her name.

“Jeyne.”

“Not many villagers would help a stranger, Jeyne.”

“I’m not like the others,” she said finally, when the fire was roaring. He sat still while she cleaned and dressed the wounds, but privately, she knew her stitches would have little use. The gashes were already smaller than before, as if sewn by an invisible hand.

Later, she was unsurprised to see him slip on the wolf skin, his eyes changing from blue to yellow. He snarled and howled in the tiny cabin, but Jeyne didn’t move. She merely stared at him if he was paint on the wall, nothing of interest.

“Most villagers would cower,” he said when he was a man again.

“I’m not like the others,” she repeated.

——

She learned his name was Robb. He told her so, when she covered them in her cloak, his chin to her shoulder. She told him that her father had been a huntsman, and taught her the trade.

“And why haven’t you killed me yet?”

“If I’m not like the others, then neither are you.”

——

He made Jeyne his mate, in name and practice until the moon’s turn. They shared a bed at night, and broke bread together in the morning. She cut his red hair and trimmed his beard. She sewed him a new shirt, handed him her axe, and sent him to the village.

She was hunting for dinner when she heard him return, though he also was hunting her. She spun around and found him smiling, his mouth red with blood.

Robb was playful as a man and a wolf. “Forgive me, I seem to have lost my way.”

Jeyne pulled the hood back, smirking. “You’ll find it at nightfall, I’m sure.”

His answering grin was full of teeth. “The village is preparing for a harvest festival. In a fortnight, we can have them all.”

She imagined running through the air, leaping, and landing on four paws. “I’ll need that many people?”

“The first turn is the bloodiest,” he breathes, and the blue eyes glowed yellow. His next words were a growl. “Only the best for my new mate.”

Jeyne smiled, tracing the fresh blood across his lips. When he kissed her, she could taste it. “The wolf king picks a queen.”

 _We will rule the forest, you and I_.


End file.
